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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097550">I thought I said I wasn’t good at this (I couldn’t tell you that I wanted you but I wanted to)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj13/pseuds/kj13'>kj13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bemily Week 2020, BemilyWeek, Day 4, F/F, Soccer!au, bemily</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:01:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj13/pseuds/kj13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The soccer AU. Beca and Emily star in this romcom for the ages as captains of rival soccer teams. On the field, they hate each other's guts. But what happens when the two of them are forced to work together off the field? Will sparks fly or will they burn out, leaving nothing but ashes of what could have been?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emily Junk/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Well I can fill a room full of faces I don't know, but I can't see the ones that I love (I've always been so hard on myself)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all, it's me, ya boi.<br/>It's day 4 of Bemily week! <br/>And I regret to inform you that this fic will once again be multiple chapters! Oh no<br/>I've played soccer for most of my life, for as long as I can remember really, so obviously the inspiration was definitely there. </p>
<p>Hope y'all like it, come yell at me @just-gayaf on Tumblr.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sweat trickles down Beca’s back, her heart racing but her breaths steady and calm, as she takes in the cooling evening air that sets goosebumps across her skin. Nights like this are what Beca lives for. It’s a little past 9, the faint rays of the past sun creating a soft glow on the clouds above; it’s a clear parallel to the soccer field, with its bright synthetic green surface illuminated by the neon lights posted at each corner, white lines broken and uneven from the cleats that had been running across them only minutes earlier. Everything feels quiet, and Beca relishes in the peace that envelops her tired body. If someone were to ask her what happiness felt like, this moment here would be the answer. Any day, without question. Her limbs are heavy, and her chest burns with a bittersweet kind of ache, the kind that burns to the back of her throat raw; but with all of this comes something else, a feeling, burning deep within her heart. In this moment, Beca is on top of the world. And she wouldn’t exchange it for anything else.</p>
<p>If anyone had told Beca 10 years ago that she would end up captain of a soccer team, headed for a fully paid scholarship to university, she probably would have scoffed at the thought. But her father had gotten tired of her lashing out at her parents’ divorce and had dragged her kicking and screaming to her first practice. Beca hated every single second of it, every day, until the day of her first game, when her competitive spirit had overtaken her desire to spite her father, and she had found herself in the exact same position as she did 10 years later on, in the quiet of the aftermath, where the world stilled to a soft humming and her head finally felt clear. Ever since then, Beca had focused all of her energy into soccer; she had found her drug and there was no going back.</p>
<p>And now here she was, 10 years older, preparing her last year of high school. Everything she had ever worked for, finally within reach. Her whole winter she had trained, and then all summer as well. Beca couldn’t remember the last time her muscles hadn’t been sore, but it didn’t matter. Not of it mattered if Beca didn’t make it to university. And there was only one last thing standing in the way of that: Emily fucking Junk.</p>
<p>Emily Junk was the captain of the Barden Ladies. They had been win-less since their creation 2 years ago, until Emily had joined as captain. And last year, they handed the Bellas their first loss at the championship game in over 25 years. The two girls clashed whenever they met on the field, and more than once the referee was forced to intervene before things took a turn for the worst.</p>
<p>Beca had no intention to lose to her this year. She would win or she would die trying.</p>
<p>Her musings are interrupted by the sound of her name being called out. A look at the car lot shows her Chloe waving her over, the redhead ready to head home for one last night of sleep before the first day of school. Beca closes her eyes once more, breathing in the last day of summer vacation. The sky has turned a deep indigo, the last light from the sun shrinking behind the line of buildings in the horizon.</p>
<p><em>This is going to be a good year</em>, Beca thinks to herself as she hikes the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, crossing the field to meet her friend.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>The next morning, however, Beca finds that the year is, in fact, not off to a good start as she sprints through her bedroom, throwing the door open to cross into the bathroom. Her alarm failed to ring, the batteries on the clock having died during the night and she now finds herself 30 minutes behind on her schedule. She comes out 10 minutes later with a towel wrapped around her, hair dripping wet, toothbrush hanging off her lips.</p>
<p>Within 5 minutes, the brunette is jumping up and down, trying desperately to pull her “tighter-than-skin” black jeans up her still wet legs. However, even as she finally manages to pull them on, Beca finds herself swearing for the 10<sup>th</sup> time that morning when her habit of throwing her clothes across the room rather than storing them in one place comes biting her in the ass as she scrambles to find her favorite hoodie through the mass of items strewn across her bedroom floor. The figures on the posters covering the walls seemed to be judging her silently as she stumbled through the room, finally grabbing her backpack by the strap and rushing out into the hallway, her door slamming behind her in echo of her footsteps hitting the steps leading to the kitchen.</p>
<p>Beca rushes out of the house, waving her hand blindly to her dad as he calls out behind her.  The laces of her Converse shoes tangle together as she hops into her car, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat. Her old Corolla sputters lazily to life, much to Beca’s relief. As she pulls out of the driveway, trudging noisily through her sleepy neighborhood, she finds herself thinking that perhaps this day could still turn out to be fine.</p>
<p>As she pulls into the school parking lot, the bell rings in the distance, announcing the beginning of classes. <em>Fuck. </em>Unfortunately, Beca is very much aware that Mrs. Campbell is not the forgiving type, especially not towards Beca, with whom she seems to have picked a bone quite early on. Her phone vibrates against her butt as she gets to her locker. It’s a text from Chloe:</p>
<p>            <strong>Becs u have to get here rn</strong></p>
<p><em>I’m aware of that, Chlo </em>thinks Beca impatiently. Her padlock is not cooperative, and it takes a few tries before she manages to unlock it, leaving all of her manuals except for the one required in math class, and slams it shut. On her way to class, the phone vibrates once more and the brunette girl wants to roll her eyes because come on, she’s going as fast as she can. And it’s pretty fast, considering that she spends most of her life running. Finally arriving to class, Beca opens the door, praying for a miracle; something like Mrs. Campbell getting hit on the head over the summer and having her personality do a complete 180. No such luck, of course. </p>
<p>She first notices Chloe’s expression. Sitting in the back row, her best friend’s eyes are wide, moving continuously between Beca and something at the front. Beca frowns and shakes her head imperceptibly in question, but Mrs. Campbell call her out before she can get any answer.</p>
<p>“Ah, Ms. Mitchell. I’m so glad to see you. Funnily enough, I was looking for someone. I think your volunteering can make up for your late arrival, don’t you think?” Mrs. Campbell face is friendly, her smile wide, but her voice is cold and laced with something Beca can’t quite place. It resembles the voice from the villains of Jesse’s movies, right when they are about to reveal their master plan to the unsuspecting hero.</p>
<p>“We have a new student joining us this year, and it seems that you will be the perfect candidate to give them guidance as one of out graduating senior, no?”</p>
<p>Mrs. Campbell points towards the front row of the class, and Beca realizes her tone is laced with delight. Her eyes turn slowly from Mrs. Campbell victorious face to where her finger points, and her heart stops.</p>
<p>Because sitting in the front row is no one else than Emily. Fucking. Junk.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, fuck me.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I hate you too (The way you dress, and the things that you do)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily had expected her first day back to school to be mediocre, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer awfulness of it.</p><p>Her parents had gotten divorced over the summer, the paperwork coming in on the second week of summer vacation. Emily was given a choice to decide with which parent to stay, and Emily had picked her mom over her dad. Katherine Junk may have forgiven her husband for his mistakes in the past through the divorce process, but Emily hadn’t.  </p><p>Unfortunately, the change of address had led to a change of area code, and the 17 year-old had been forced to change high school for her senior year. It should not have been such a big deal, since Emily was probably the friendliest person on earth. But then Beca Mitchell had walked in her math classroom, and her day sucked from here on out.</p><p>Emily did not understand Beca. The two of them had first met 2 years ago, when Emily had joined the Barden Ladies and became their captain. Emily’s first thought had been that Beca was extremely pretty, with her long chocolate hair tied up in a low ponytail, her face a mask of concentration disguised as indifference. When the referee had called them over, Emily had been her usually friendly self at the meetup before their first game, smiling widely and wishing the other captain good luck. Beca, however, had not responded, her cold blue eyes refusing to meet hers. Emily was not the type to get angry easily. She thought of herself as a very considerate person, always trying to understand someone’s point of view before judging them. But she came up short when it came to the smaller girl’s attitude. After their 3<sup>rd</sup> game against one another, Emily stopped trying, and soon she started mimicking Mitchell’s actions, leading the two of them into heated arguments that even she could not explain. Something surged inside her whenever she looked at Beca Mitchell, and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to kick her or kiss her.</p><p>(Emily could not explain the kissing part. She chalked it up to her having never been in any sort of confrontation before)</p><p>Beca’s entrance in the classroom had brought a fury of conflicted feelings for Emily, who had never seen her nemesis outside of the soccer field. It felt different to see her in regular clothes rather than her soccer uniform; her dark jeans highlighted her lithe frame, and although she was still wearing a Bellas sweater, her hair falling loosely over her shoulder framed her face in a way that had Emily rethinking the whole hate thing. But then Beca’s eyes had met hers, and Emily knew that the smaller girl’s feelings towards her had not changed during the summer, and the fire returned in her heart.</p><p>Beca refused to meet her eyes the entirety of class, focusing her eyes on the chalkboard up front, not even bothering to take notes. She ran out of class before Emily could even talk to her, leaving behind Chloe, who smiled apologetically to Emily, before taking off after her friend.</p><p>The rest of the day had gone pretty much the same way. Much to Emily’s dismay, she and Beca shared two other classes on Mondays, and Beca’s behaviour when noticing Emily had been just as abhorrent as it had been in their first shared class. By the time the bell rang, Emily was angrier than she had ever been towards the smaller girl.</p><p>The brunette runs to her bedroom the moment she gets home, kicking off her shoes in one direction and her bag in the other. Her bed is soft and comforting as she wraps her duvet around her.</p><p>Emily gets lost in her thoughts as she watched the silent dance of dust particles in the warm glow of the sun filtering through the window next to her bed. Her bedroom was easily her favorite room. The walls were white, her ceiling a soft shade of seafoam green (her favorite color). Posters of her favorite bands hung above her bed, illuminated by the string of lights she had begged her mom to buy when she had seen them at the store. A munching sound pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns her attention to the desk sitting across the room. A tired smile pulls at her lips at the sight of her hamster fixing her intensely. Abandoning the safety of her blanket, Emily makes her way to the cage, kneeling next to the desk to get a better look at the ball of fur.</p><p> “Hey Tupac. How was your day, bubby?”</p><p>Tupac’s silence answers her. Emily shakes her head.</p><p>“Yeah, I know the feeling…”</p>
<hr/><p>A note sticks on the door of the fridge, and Emily knows her mother is pulling another late shift at the hospital. With a sigh, the tall girl heads towards the cookie jar in the shape of an apple that sits on the counter, taking out the money that has been left for her to buy dinner.</p><p>“Guess we’re having pizza again” she whispers to the lump in the pocket of her hoodie, where Tupac is hiding. She goes back to her bedroom, setting the little ball of fur back in its cage before grabbing the keys of her car, slipping her phone in her back pocket as she heads out of the house.</p><p>The sun is low on the horizon and a cool breeze ruffles the leaves in the trees. Emily’s favorite moment of the day. She takes a deep breath, enjoying the smell of barbecue and freshly cut grass as they mix in the air and fill her lungs with a bittersweet kind of melancholy. Summer was coming to and end. Soccer season was coming. <em>With every end comes a new beginning….</em></p><p>Emily barely starts her car that she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket, and confusion fills her as she reads the name on the caller ID.</p><p>
  <strong>Chloe Beale is calling</strong>
</p><p>Now, Emily and Chloe did not have a feud. In fact, she was one of the nicest of the Bellas, along with another girl named Stacy, with whom Emily had hung out a couple times after a game. But it was a known fact that she was also Beca Mitchell’s best friend, and although she was very nice towards Emily whenever they met, Chloe had never gone out of her way to talk to Emily, sticking to Beca’s side, sometimes pulling her away when she and Emily clashed too hard. A call from her could not be good news, but Emily answers anyway, figuring today could not get worst than it had been so far.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Hi, Emily? It’s Chloe Beale, the redhead in your class, also you know, with the Bellas?”</p><p>Emily can’t help but laugh a little bit. Of course, she knows Chloe.</p><p>“Yes, now I remember! Thank you for the specification! I was picturing someone else completely” She jokes, hoping that the girl at the other end of the line won’t get offended. Relief washes over her when Chloe’s laugh rings through the phone.</p><p>“Sorry, I tend to be overly specific sometimes.”</p><p>There is a pause in the conversation, Emily waiting for the reason of Chloe’s call at 7PM.</p><p>“Soooo….”</p><p>“Oh yeah shoot, sorry. Listen, me and Stacie were about to go grab a bite, and we thought maybe you’d like to eat with us?” Chloe must sense Emily’s hesitation because she quickly adds “No pressure, you know? We just… We feel bad for the whole, well, Beca situation. We wanted to apologize and maybe talk with you about stuff. If you wanted to.”</p><p>Chloe rambles almost as much as she does, Emily notices. Her voice is genuine, and Emily’s hesitation fades away.</p><p>“Yeah sure, no problem! What’s the place?”</p><p>“It’s the dinner not far from the soccer field? The one on the corner of 4<sup>th</sup> and Washington?”</p><p>“Yes, I know it. I’ll be there in 15.”</p><p>“Great! See you there!”</p>
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